Michelle got up at 4 am again, Eastern time no less, to catch her flight. We had to set the alarm ourselves at our end.
Richard turned right out of the neighborhood.
Wait, what? She’s at San Francisco, right?
I dropped her off at San Jose airport, he answered. She’s at San Jose.
But…
We knew by then that her flight had landed 35 minutes early and she was already on the ground and we were running behind as it was, but going the wrong way wasn’t going to help anything and arguing would get me nowhere since I wasn’t the one driving. So I pulled out my cell and started texting: SFO, right?
Yes SFO! I sent you my itinerary…!
(I knew that, especially because I had written it down in my calendar: if I write it I remember it.) She says SFO.
You sure? I dropped her off at…
She says she’s at SFO, dear. (While managing not to say it as DEAR at that hour.)
Right, then. Left at the light and back thataway to the next northbound exit. I knew she was just sitting there waiting so I tried to help keep her company: We’re on 101 north now.
We’re at San Carlos now.
We’re at Milbrae now. (Which is really close.)
And then came her text: Stay on target… Stay on target…
Good to have her home again.